The Princess and the Doctor
by MarshRP
Summary: The Doctor wasn't real, that much I was certain. So, why was he standing right in front of me and asking me to join him? This can't be happening, except it is. What happens next? (OC Companion, Eleven, Doctor & Rose, Pre-Clara)


**Summary:** The Doctor wasn't real, that much I was certain. So, why was he standing right in front of me and asking me to join him? This can't be happening, except it is. What happens next?

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing except my own imagination and the original characters used in the telling of this story. Hope you enjoy and let me know if you want more. R &R!

 **Chapter 1:** A Close Encounter

It's kind of funny how wonderful things happen in the most unlikely of times and to the most unsuspecting people. But this was an unusual surprise. I understood perfectly well that I must have been going completely insane because there was absolutely no way this could be real. It's not to say that I don't believe good things can't ever happen to me, but this was simply impossible. It had to be a prank or maybe my own overzealous mind playing tricks on me. After all, it's not every day you come across an alien in the middle of the street on your walk home from school.

As if that scenario wasn't strange enough for you, this wasn't just any ordinary alien. This specific alien in question was one who called himself the Doctor. Yes, that's right. You heard correctly. The Doctor from the popular science- _fiction_ TV series, Doctor Who. And if by any chance you still have no idea who that is, which is absurd, I'll give you a quick summary.

The Doctor, with the most fitting of names for a man who literally has saved countless lives (most without even being aware of him doing so), is an alien from the planet called Gallifrey. He's over 900 years old and a Time Lord, a man fresh out of a war that ended in the loss of his planet and his people. He's lived forever it seems, always on his own, except when he isn't. At times he picks up the most unsuspecting people, shows them just how spectacular they are, teaches them that they do mattered in the world. Sometimes…he dies, only to revive himself in the form of a different Doctor – complete with a new face, a new look, a fresh new way of seeing the world and embracing it, and a pair of new hearts with even more love to give. But here's the thing about the Doctor, he's not real.

As wonderful and liberating as the Doctor is, the story of the Doctor was simply just that – a story. There was no planet called Gallifrey, no Time Lords or Time Ladies, no spaceship called the TARDIS to travel through time and space, and absolutely no Doctor to rescue ordinary people from their everyday boring lives and show them some truly extraordinary things or help them discover just how absolutely fantastic, brilliant, and magnificent they truly are. There weren't any alternative dimensions, especially none in which Rose lived as happily as she could with the Doctor's human clone, no matter how soothing that thought may be to a poor Whovian's heart.

One can only dream of ever having the chance to meet the Doctor. Countless times I've had that exact same dream. I've caught myself fantasizing about him, wishing to bring his existence into reality and be able to one day call myself his companion. Who wouldn't want to jump at the opportunity to live through all of that? To have the chance to walk right into the TARDIS and melt at the amazing and yet overwhelming sight and acknowledgment that it _indeed_ was much, much bigger on the inside; but that was simply a fool's dream.

And yet, here I was. Standing before my very eyes was the sole alien man responsible for saving so many lives, including my own. To say I was a fan was an understatement. Indeed, I worshiped and idolized this beautiful creature but it went beyond just that. I ached and sympathized with him, _for_ him. His story, this beautiful and achingly tragic story was too much to bear, and yet I wanted to help him carry that weight, if only so he wouldn't have to do so on his own anymore.

At first, I dismissed all possibility that this man was the Doctor. For years I had lived knowing the Doctor was not real. He was simply a make-believe character, and the actors who portrayed him were miles and miles away, on the other side of the planet, filming the next season. So, how can the main star possibly be standing before me with that all too familiar bow tie? This was no double, nor a fellow cosplayer with flawless make up. No, this was the actual face of the Time Lord and I was completely speechless.

The Doctor stared down at me patiently, which was a rare thing for the Doctor to do, especially in this current regeneration. The only sign of him growing impatient with me came in the form of a repetitive foot tap, which my eyes kept drifting over to. I couldn't bring myself to stare at his face for too long in fear of suddenly having a nervous breakdown. I wasn't even entirely certain of what to say or do. No words had been uttered between us before my approach.

There I had been, minding my own business, repeating my to-do list of chores and homework I had to accomplish once I got home, when suddenly a blur of familiar blue caught my attention. I took a few steps back, wondering if my eyes had tricked me. There was no way a TARDIS would be in a place like this, though I suppose it's possible a fan was simply building the familiar blue telephone police box for their own collection. I spotted no TARDIS in the little alleyway I passed. I had heard enough terrifying stories about alleys, so I dared not take a step closer, not until a familiar face came popping out the corner. At first, I tried to ignore it, but my curiosity got the best of me. The Doctor seemed busy at work, doing some sort of mechanical job on something large just around the corner. I knew it could be nothing else but the TARDIS, but still I kept my place. He must have sensed me there because he glanced in my direction looking not at all surprised. He smiled as he wiped his greasy hands on a handkerchief which he then waved lightly in my direction. Perhaps he had said something in the process, but my mind was too busy shutting down to pay attention.

My legs moved on their own, however, as he continued to wave me over. I kept as much distance as possible, for sanity reasons, but my eyes couldn't help themselves from taking in every last detail; and thus my staring competition continued. Perhaps his current patience was a result of him understanding my utter shock and disbelief. A hundred thoughts seemed to race in my mind all at once and even then I knew he had to have a thousand times as many running through his as well. When I finally had enough sense to attempt speech, he decided to break his patience and speak first.

"Very well then, I suppose you have many questions to ask. Go ahead, ask away. Speak your mind! Don't hold back, come on," he urged, running his hand through his hair, seeming to try and fix it only to grimace when he stained it with grease instead.

I was left with a gaping mouth, speech leaving me once more. Questions? Boy did I ever have questions to ask him! But which one would I begin with? I had no mind at that moment to sort out my own thoughts let alone form a sentence or a question! I shook my head to try and clear my thoughts, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "You're real?"

"So right you are," he confirmed. He fixed his bow tie with a smile and then tossed his handkerchief to the right.

"How?" I managed to ask in response, mentally patting myself in the back for such an accomplishment.

"Though I understand that here I am portrayed as nothing more than a fictional character, I hope that hasn't discouraged you from believing in the existence of different dimensions – all lined up right next to each other, each different from the next and yet so similar!" He ranted, all while fixing his suspenders back onto his shoulders and then stretched them outward a bit.

I shook my head at his response, still unable to accept the possibility that the Doctor was real or that multiple dimensions actually existed. "But...t-that can't be! You're not real. You can't! This is impossible. _So_ impossible!"

"But I like impossible. It's much more fun that way, don't you think?" he asked, grinning.

I huffed a half laugh in response and looked away while I processed this information. What were the possibilities that I was just hallucinating or dreaming right now? Most likely a lot higher than the Doctor being real and right before my eyes. The latter was a much more appealing outcome, no matter how insane it sounded. I looked back up at him, my hands eagerly clutching at the straps of my backpack over my shoulders.

"Show it to me – the TARDIS. Please show me!" I pleaded, needing to see it with my own eyes before I could accept any of this.

His response was a smile as he motioned to his right. This time I did not hesitate. I followed the remaining path and rounded the corner to find the TARDIS sitting there, nestled between a little nook in the wall. My eyes scanned all over the outside, memorizing every detail in case I never had the chance to see a TARDIS in person again – real or not.

I inched closer and extended my hand until it gently brushed against the recently polished wood. Tears welled up in my eyes and I allowed myself to caress this wonderful machine as I stepped even closer. I looked over my shoulder at him, silently asking for permission. At his nod of approval, I turned back, took a deep breath and gently pushed the doors open.

The sight that greeted me left me trembling with even more tears. I stopped all movement except for my hands as they came to rest against my mouth, silencing any cries. His hand gently came to rest on my back and he ushered me inside while I continue take it all in.

"Welcome on board! Next stop...well, I guess I'll leave that up to you!"

 **End of Chapter 1.**


End file.
